2b2t

“

The second coming of Hause rippled with recoil:
"Thou shalt not gain an unequal advantage." He said,
casually griefing the player base to birth a New Economy.
The server asphyxiates, staggering in the shitstorm,
under a foliage guiltlessly green.

”

Kingoros, the based god autism 420

Ah yes, the IGN-rated worst place in your cordial digital lego game. 2b2t, short for 2builders2tools, is a Minecraft server started in December 2010. Players can engage in unlimited destruction, warfare and slavery without the fear of getting b&'d. The server covers the cost of crackers for CrackMaster, its owner, from players' benevolent donations. Affectionately known as 2 balls 2 tits in its wholesome playerbase, the philanthropic Christian Family Friendly Minecraft Server (CFFMS) continues to ride the edge of the latest globalization trends. Standing in the world spawn area as a new player (newfriend), diamond-clad freedom fighters would assist you with glowing magical bananas, and bots would rain down crystalline kisses with their Crystal Aura.

Joining

You should play 2b2t between 4:00 am and 3:00 am, to make sure the usual suspects do not cause too much trouble to Skymasons. All 15-year-olds should be brought to IHOP by a responsible mason. To get in, all newfriends should wait in the extensive queue to not pay CrackMaster US$19.99 so he can spend it on recreational substances, and should use their $19.99 on some bitches, possibly some real ones.

Once you are into the infamous Christian Family Friendly Minecraft Server, you should track down iTristan, the most deadly player on the deadliest Minecraft server. Then, massive lavacasts (piles of rubble, mainly cobblestone) should be mounted in order to reach peak minecraftingness.

Activities

2b2t low effort meme

All 2b2t players are either homosexual, trans, dodgy teens or lazy-ass 21-year-olds. If you are not one of these, please get the fuck out of our server, or go wank to black men kissing for the third time today you lowlife. Make a name for yourself by doing what Bachi or Dima did. Please do nothing else in our server. Leave.

Duping

Dupe, short for duplication, is an integral part of 2b2t experience. Duping involves exploitation of game mechanics, features, and the hypersexuality of the operating player. Modern streamlined processes involve paying CrackMaster for the priority queue and then doing him several blowjobs, shouting "1.16 update WHEN???!" with his cum thick in the mouth.

Gameplay

Gimme kits

At the convergence point of YouTube hype and hacker bedtime stories sat 2builders2tools. Through the mono-purple limbo of the queue, you were born into the worst Minecraft server for the first time. Initially, an unnerving silence evoked the dread of countless disconnects; then a barrage of sounds shattered the illusionary peace. Wither skulls screeched past, almost delivering a certain death. The hollowed out NFE Lavacast rose from a sea of explosions, reaching far above the clouds to join an obsidian sky. You hopped from one floating patch of land to another, like a mouse on the outskirts of a dark fairyland. The server gruntles and shudders and rubberbands. To call it post-apocalyptic would be inapt; it is the creation of modern humans, built (or excavated) by those educated enough to be adept with the way of computers. Destructive beauty at its fullest came together, while the chat got filled with the letter t.

Such dreamy scenery.

Spawn is old. Every block of dirt might easily be older than its digger. Every wither explosion could destroy a few more cubic meters of history. Life come to be and meet its end with a puff, and groups equilibrate between existence and disbandment. Look, the sun was sinking into the lava curtain; daytime had slipped away. No difference for the vulgar darkness below the obsidian dome.

As a fresh newfag, you were proud of your one-minute survival. Let the so-called oldfags jest and swear and be irked; so what? Bitches come to your home, and you don't care. You scaled the difficult terrain on a dilapidated stone path, pitiful for the blatant environmental destruction. A picture of canals lined with wheat fields traversing across spawn rose to mind, and you briefly gave free rein for the messianic fantasy. Hearing the people sing for you in imagination, you silently determined to bring spirits of democracy and rule of law to the anarchic wastes. The nether portals were no longer gaping mouths growing on the mountains; they were gateways to world peace.

The nether is as magnificent as your brain, with clusters of random junk floating around and unending explosions. You took a bet on an obsidian tunnel just below bedrock, warily circumventing bottomless holes in the floor. A good method to experience the passage of time, or the lack thereof. Initial celebration gave way to exhaustion, then the sickness of oily chips centrifuging in your stomach on a lengthened car trip. After God knows how long, at a fork in the road, you silently thanked the builders of the lifeline and departed. The unpolished divergence narrowed down and constricted before ending abruptly, leaving a wall of netherrack, staring at you as you stared back. However, a gurgling portal sound reignited your morale. Punching down the walls of the corridor, you found a hidden portal covered in weird maparts. Standing in a purple nausea, the first day in the server flashed through your mind: everything felt incongruent, yet there was excitement; not fantasy world heroism, but a reminder of your own insignificance, over a fascination of bizarre unrealities never seen before.

The overworld again. Sunlight, water and trees. You rejoiced for three seconds before the server disconnected you and spat that java.io.IOException on your face.

Afterwards

Touch those crystals, dip in lightly, and never to return. The second expedition was meticulously prepared; when the afternoon sun slanted on the computer's oily W key, you were ready to start your own Age of Discovery. Outside of spawn, the gameplay was singleplayer with annoying chat and lag, but every oak plank placed and every dirt block dug seemed to gain extra significance, a glowing presence freshly carved in the rubbled history. You simultaneously took part in four happy conversations in the chat, as an automated mining script toiled for diamonds in rain and thunder. The server never fails to surprise: a forest of crosses over a graveyard, a burning jungle littered with inverted pyramids, entire walls of flirting signs over years, an erectile penis made out of furnaces. Dusk and night in real life stole away unnoticed; your legs stiffened over six hours of a single play session.

While traveling, you messed with an Enderman and got slain. Back at spawn, you dashed onto the highway, hoping to retrieve your items before they got stolen. Soon you realized your mistake, as the hunger bar was rapidly draining to the bottom. To close the issue for good, an armored player entered your sight.

You waited for the certain death. Surprisingly, the player was friendly, and gave you a few golden apples to fix your hunger. Clinging to the only friendly force in this stone-cold world, you begged to join a team and become stronger. The nice player smiley'd and told you to not rush. The next time you logged in, he was gone, leaving a sign of farewell and was never seen again.

Tolerance

You feel really happy when others blow up your builds. It's part of the fun!

It was much too easy to link stuff to nobody cares and just-a-block-game and laugh at the griefed, or join the CrackMaster dissing hype and claim to not even play anymore; secretly, the only world that remained in your Minecraft was 2b2t.org, to focus on the journey from a blank newfag to a sophisticated newfag.

Bold theory: 2b2t makes a better fantasy world than many large-budget RPG games do. There was no forced wow factor, no grinding-intensive quests or uninspired storylines, no fancy magic or pet systems. This decade-old map demands next to nothing from you for a deep dive into the unparalleled game world. Of the downsides, the server converts them and serves as specialties to players. Imbalance is the experience; profanity is the immersion; and frustration is the fun. Atypical of Minecraft, 2b2t is not time-intensive: queue is a great time to leave the computer temporarily and concentrate on something else; most in-game tasks can be allotted to bots and AFKing; grinding end-game items is unheard of, as they periodically got discarded on the bedrock layer.

The server simulates a society, allows you to taste every sin unattainable in reality. You know how players communicate in death threats and greet others with jihads by the sword. Where else to feel 9/11 jokes, n-word storms, and nomadic life! Enjoy the schadenfreude, the guilty joy of watching harassment unfold. Witness the menacing side of human nature that positivity figures refuse to tell, understand and accept your true self, and gain a blaring superiority the next time you are caught in a flock of sheeple.

It felt like a world in the Age of Legends. Heroes constantly put on shows and make history, their names carved in millions of YouTube views. Ordinary people, however, don't get to make history. While the elite reign and deify, the likes of you scurry around 100k across the highway to remove some shitshack, or squabble over a stingy stash of items. The community jokingly compares these trivialities to writing homework in a Michael Jackson concert.

Desensitization

Yet insignificance frees you the responsibility strapped to popularity, allowing you to enjoy your play. Another day, another newfag hunt in the nether hub, until the universe ends; this activity never gets old. These naked new players are invariably useless queue-extenders, dumb as airborne squids, only worthy for kd fodder. What if someone drop the accusation that you used to be one of them? No worries, past doesn't count on this server, lies and betrayals and the like, because the influx of newfags washes everything away like a toilet flush.

Don't talk to me, I'm crystal PvPing.

Inside the explosion radius is justice! One by one, these thing-people were shattered and crisped like maggots in a microwave. Freshly butchered newfag meat tasted so good that you rushed to lick up the screen and spice up your stagnant life. Oh, this newfag frolicked along the tenuous highway, but took a slip and flew its final flight into lava. For the last fugitive, best fly past it and land before it to confer a jump scare! Seeing the escapee panic, you were blasted full with power, right through your arm and into your sword, which vaporized the scared little thing in one hit, its limbs still flailing in midair. You gave a post-orgasmic gasp and exhaled the remaining arousal as a echoing EZZZZZZ in chat.

Who said "Coward"? Bring your ass to the bedrock layer for a duel!!!11one! You never lose. Watch that masterful tactical retreat across the uneven bedrock layer, and the spirit-breaking shitposting, then the ultimate ability of instant combat log! Such is Crystal PVP, 50% toggling hacked clients, 40% cracking teeth on enchanted shiny bananas, and 10% running from one bedrock pit to another, but cutting the kills into a montage with some rap song makes good brag rights.

Not anarchy

Having flung around a bunch of The Limited Excursion dudes, you waggled away in a state of trance after a spawn trip, casually swatting a few Wither bosses along the way. You were different from the average bloodless 2b2t heavy users; you lived with dignity and would never cast down your noble hands to construct some giant floating anime character out of obsidian. Beyond the sockpooping and basement dwelling, you had a job, a life, and even a girlfriend! No, by no means would you shit in the same hole as those trash groups do, the bastards who spam ads everywhere.

Fine, Minecraft is lonely to its core, so it's better to find your fleet and build bases together. The first project was to construct "the greatest obsidian symbol ever", bigger than the Masonic Eclipse. Alright, it ended up indefinitely shelved. Then one day, a war with another group broke out. You didn't read the messages in time, and you returned to find your group disbanded, since the leaders themselves defected to the enemy side.

Your reward is honor in a block game!

Then you joined the opposing group as well, finding it to be a democracy that determined actions through voting. There were proposals along the lines of "we will build an iconic base for the democracy, and you will donate personal items to show love of equality and freedom". You donated chestfuls of obsidian, and you were awarded a medal. Happily, you waited for the base. The base was not built. It turned out that there were only three active members in the voting Discord server, who were also the only ones to post proposals and had the same mind on matters.

The next time was a group who only watched 2b2t content and never played the server. Afterwards came a much nicer building team, just that the members didn't talk much, because they were all bots. Then you met an dispenser worshipping group dedicated to rule34 of Minecraft dispensers. The communities were so imaginative and diverse that you wondered if they had reproductive isolation with Homo sapiens. When all altercation died down, you silently phased below the bedrock, and questioned the void why; hierarchy was not deprecated, independence was not celebrated, and a world of harmony was nowhere to be seen. The dreams of rule of law in the first play session rose to mind, and reality whipped you in dripping sarcasm.

You rage quitted. CrackMaster was still hollering behind, "James was cute!"

Epilogue

At last, you wandered around the nether highway, and came across a noob. Surprisingly, this player was chill and capable of actual conversation, so you talked with him a bit. Good times; he reminded you of your own noob-hood.

Then you parted ways with the naive new player, who vowed to mine all the rich reserves of exposed iron ore at spawn. You watched him adapt to the flaming in chat, engage in crystal PvP, and create his own personality cult. To show his Christian love on the CFFMS, He devoted himself to conquering other bases and constructing Jesus statues on their ruins. Like you, he had wormed through the insides of the server and reborn changed.

But is the "change" truly bad? That he shedded the social norms of that distant, distant world and behave the way he truly wants here? What are the underlying ethics of the server?

There is no point to contemplate such matters. It's just a block game. As long as you don't want to milk the server for money, you can and should do everything forbidden and diabolical. New dupe, get on!